


A Change of Seasons: Cold

by sheiruki



Series: A Change Of Seasons [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, Blood, Blood Drinking, Dreams and Nightmares, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Shippy Gen, to feed a vampire but still, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24577840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheiruki/pseuds/sheiruki
Summary: Savos wants to gather some ice wraith teeth, Rashkan decides to accompany him. What sounds like an easy enough task quickly turns into a catastrophe.
Relationships: Savos Aren & Original Male Character(s), Savos Aren/Original Male Character(s)
Series: A Change Of Seasons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733266
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the reason I decided to split up ACoS; it's the longest fic I've ever written and will span multiple chapters. It is somewhat shippy as I've decided to cram all my favourite tropes into it, but it's pre-romance and pre-relationship. Set a few months after "Alone" and "Blood".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I never expected this thing to grow this long, especially since this is only the first chapter. The others are mostly finished but still need to undergo editing. Still, the largest part is done unless the other chapters grow just as much. We'll see, we'll see...

"Remind me, why did I let you talk me into this?" Rashkan was wading through the thick blanket of snow that covered the shore of the Sea of Ghosts. His feet hurt with every step and he cursed himself for not having invested in a proper pair of boots. The straps of a heavy backpack cut deep into his shoulders. No wonder given all the things the archmage had insisted on packing. "Better safe than sorry", Rashkan scoffed. 

_If only he were the one to carry it, then._

"I didn't talk you into anything. I needed some ice wraith teeth and you said you wanted to make yourself useful. Don't complain now, the way back is longer than the way ahead."

The archmage -though not recognizable as such since the robes of his office were hidden under the thickest, fluffiest fur cloak Rashkan had ever seen- was leading the way across the frozen shore, following some unseen path formed by years of experience. 

"You'll soon enough learn to appreciate these little excursions; Winterhold can be awfully dull at times."

Rashkan rolled his eyes and looked back into the direction they had come from. The college had long faded out of sight, replaced by towering glaciers and the endless, blackish blue of the Sea of Ghosts. The bright morning sun had faded too, he noticed, and the typical Winterhold evergrey had taken its place. 

"Rashkan?" Savos called from a distance.

"What are you waiting for? If we want to get back before sundown we should hurry up a bit."

"Coming," he called back, taking one last look at the cloud-covered sky.

Together they continued their journey through the frozen wasteland, with Savos leading the way. Rashkan was surprised by how much the old mer managed to outrun him every so often.

After a while they reached a dead end. The ice had risen and effectively formed a glacial cliff.

Savos grimaced and Rashkan swore he heard him curse under his breath.

"I assume we will have to get up there if we want to continue our journey?" Rashkan asked while putting his head back. 

"Exactly, although I'm not sure how we'll accomplish that. We've got rope, but I didn't pack any climbing equipment."

Rashkan cocked an eyebrow.

"So you mean to tell me that, in your earlier packing frenzy, you did not include crampons or a grappling hook?"

"Who do you take me for? Narsis Dren? I'm a scholar, not some plucky adventurer," he proclaimed, half-indignant. 

Rashkan let out a defeated sigh. 

"So? Do you have a plan then?"

"Well-"

"Because I have one." Rashkan dropped the backpack and produced a long, thick flaxen rope. 

"I will fly there," he pointed up the ice shelf, "and pull you up afterwards."

Before the archmage could say anything, Rashkan had already disappeared into a swarm of bats and reappeared high on the ice.

"Hold on tight,” he shouted and threw the rope at a very baffled Savos, who needed some time to fully comprehend what had just happened. When he finally caught on, he grabbed the rope, tied it around his waist and signalled that he was ready.

The vampire leaned back and pulled, putting his entire weight to the task. The rope cut into his hands adding to the already existing pains. Still, Rashkan held onto it for dear life. What kind of mage would he be if he dropped the archmage of Winterhold? With one final pull he heaved his friend over the edge.

"You know what?" Savos began, still a bit shaken, "I'm sincerely glad you decided to join me."

Rashkan flashed a toothy grin and rolled up the rope. 

"You should be glad you are so tiny and lightweight; I would not have been able to lift you otherwise."

That comment earned him a nudge in the ribs.

The remaining trip along the seemingly endless shoreline was peaceful. But also boring. So boring. They passed by even more ice and even more water. The only highlight, if it could be called that, was passing by the occasional horker.

_If this is exciting compared to the dull days at the college I am really not looking forward to those._

Something cold and wet landed on his nose, interrupting his thoughts and forcing Rashkan to look up.

_Snow._

"Savos, wait!" He shouted. The archmage stopped and turned around. 

"What now?"

"It is starting to snow. Maybe we should head back." 

"A bit of snow? In Winterhold? How unexpected. Rashkan please, it's not far anymore and I need those teeth for my research. Let us continue without pausing for any trivial occurrence."

Rashkan wanted to protest but he figured getting on the archmage's bad side was not a good idea. After all, the track back still lay before them.

So they ignored the falling snow and marched on. By now the pain in Rashkan's feet had become unbearable and even in his undead state, the cold wetness of the snowflakes melting in his hair was most unpleasant. He dreaded the thought of the upcoming fight for those stupid teeth. 

"We have been walking for hours. Are you sure we are going to encounter any ice wraiths?" Asked Rashkan, dutifully trailing behind Savos. He peered through the white veil. By now it had grown so thick he could barely make out the limit of the Sea of Ghosts. Something in the distance made him squint.

Since when does snow move like...? 

Then it dawned on him.

"Savos, watch out!"

Oh how he hated irony.

Razor sharp teeth shot out at the archmage, who barely managed to dodge the attack. Fire burst from his hands, wrapped around him like yet another cloak. The wraith circled him, yearning for a taste of fresh dunmer flesh. Rashkan got ready to summon a flame atronach, but then stopped to reconsider.

 _What if the atronach hits Savos?_ He shook his head. _Damn! I cannot risk it._

The wraith lurched forward again. Savos answered with a wave of fire, but the nimble thing effortlessly evaded it. There had to be something Rashkan could do to help. Swapping the atronach for a firebolt, he took aim. The wraith and the archmage, locked in a terrible dance of attacks and counterattacks, made it anything but easy.

_Stop moving!_

Eventually, Savos noticed his companion's dilemma. 

"Careful Rashkan they hunt in-" 

Too late. A bitter, burning pain surged through his leg, colder than ice, colder than death, colder than the bite that had turned him so many years ago. Rashkan's firebolt evaporated into icy air. He screamed and crashed to the ground as the second ice wraith jammed its teeth deep into his thigh, unwilling to let go. He kicked and reached out to grab it. Anything! Anything to get rid of it!

"Let go off me you damn fetcher!" Rashkan groaned through grit teeth.

Struggling, barely suppressing a second scream, he rolled around on the frozen ground. But it was of no use, the wraith remained firmly locked in his thigh. 

Then, he had an idea. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate, to block out the pain and focus on his vampiric nature. A faint “crack” signalled the breaking of his thigh bone. Rashkan bit his tongue. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Still, this was his only chance. Recollecting his concentration, he gave in to his instincts and burst into a thousand little bats.

When he reappeared mere metres from his original location, the ice wraith was already preparing to strike again. Hands raised in front of his body, Rashkan prepared for the worst, when a wave of fire, hotter and brighter than anything he could ever produce, reduced the ice wraith to a puddle on the ground.

In the corner of his eyes he could see Savos running up to him, the other ice wraith hot on his heels. It opened its tooth-riddled maw and lunged forward, directly at the archmage.

"Savos!" Was all Rashkan managed to shout. For a moment, he forgot the pain, about the deep hole in his thigh, about the rest of the world.

An agonizing screech shook the shore.

_No! Leave him be!_

Rashkan crawled towards Savos, firebolt ready to strike. The archmage's hand had disappeared between teeth, his flame cloak vanished. His steps faltered as he let out a high-pitched whimper. The wraith was tearing at his arm, determined to rip it off. His face was stained with tears. Wisps of fire danced around his fingertips but would not form a coherent spell.

_Let go of him you fetcher!_

With all his might, Rashkan pushed himself onto his knees. Pain - blinding, piercing, maddening - raced through his body. He ground his teeth together, desperately swallowing yet another scream. 

_I must not distract it_ , he reminded himself.

Thankfully, the beast continued to focus on Savos, who was frozen by the icy bite. Rashkan crawled closer, deep, forceful grunts escaping him with every move. 

_Just a bit more._

Rashkan released his hold on the firebolt, shooting directly at the ice wraith. It reeled back, let go of the archmage and was promptly met with another blast. When the flames died down, a puddle was all what was left of the wraith. Savos stumbled forward clutching his shoulder. His breathing was ragged, escaping as pale white mist in the freezing air. His eyes wandered down Rashkan's thigh in utter horror.

"Rashkan you're..."

Rashkan smiled and sank back into the snow. He felt as though he, too, was shattering into a thousand frozen shards. All that kept his mind from going blank were two soft warm hands steadying him.

_Two?_

"Your arm," mumbled Rashkan, lost in a daze.

“Don’t worry.”

Savos rolled up his sleeve to reveal a band of deep purple patches around his wrist, shielded by a green-shimmering layer of pure magicka. 

“Stoneflesh. Without it, I’d be missing a hand now.” Savos smiled softly, “Please, let me see your wound.”

Rashkan just nodded along. Tired. So tired. He could not remember the last time he had felt so drained. Slowly, he sat up properly and lifted his robe, revealing a ring of deep holes in his right thigh. The fabric of his pants was partly fused with his flesh and the few visible patches of skin were turned black by frostbite. For once, Rashkan was sincerely glad for his undead condition, else that injury would have cost him his entire leg. The archmage took a final pensive look at the wound before shaking his head and walking over to the backpack. He rummaged through it and returned with a short knife. Rashkan swallowed, feeling his heart drop to his stomach.

"Relax, I'm not going to cut it off," Savos laughed.

Rashkan wanted to smack him for that. "Not funny," he muttered.

Savos ignored him, returned to his position by his side and cut a hole in Rashkan's pants so that the wound lay exposed. Then, he took the blade and summoned a stream of fire to cauterize it. When he was satisfied with his work, the archmage began skillfully removing the fabric remnants. Rashkan grit his teeth every time the sharp metal touched his flesh. 

"Ice wraith bites are a nasty business; their teeth are imbued with frost magic" Savos cut away a piece of flesh-cloth mixture. Rashkan hissed, biting his tongue. "It makes their bite much colder than any ice you will find out here." He put down the knife.

"There, all done." The archmage patted him on the shoulder. "Now let's close it." A golden glow sprang from his fingertips but as soon as it came in contact with the wound, a new wave of pain rolled over Rashkan. He flinched, kicked, and barely missed Savos' chin. The archmage did not say anything, but frowned. The wound was still open; if anything, the healing spell had caused more damage.

"Interesting. Your condition renders restoration magic entirely useless. Interesting, but worrisome. Do you know of a way to heal yourself?"

 _Do I?_ Rashkan wondered. _I should have paid much attention to that._

"Normally I just wait until I regenerate."

The archmage nodded, lost in thought. 

"Can you stand up?"

Rashkan tried to get up, but his leg would not let him; every time he put pressure on it the pain became too much to bear and he folded in on himself. Eventually he gave up and stayed on the ground, glaring at his stupid, useless leg. 

"What now?" He asked timidly.

The archmage looked back in the direction they had come from, then the opposite direction, torn between the two. Finally, his attention turned to the sky, to the sun.

"So?" An uneasy feeling joined the incessant throbbing in his thigh.

"We won't make it back to the college before sundown. Not in your condition."

Rashkan lowered his head.

"However," Savos continued. "There is a small ruin just south of here; travellers from Windhelm sometimes use it as shelter. However, bandits are also aware of the fact. Best be prepared for anything." 

Savos bent down and reached around Rashkan, pulling him up. Rashkan protested at first, but soon resigned to his fate and clung to the archmage's fur cloak until he nearly tore it off. 

The two stumbled southwards. Rashkan's feet were aching - as if his leg was not bad enough - and with every step Savos was struggling more to support him, the added weight of the much taller mer and the backpack dragging him down until he could not take it anymore and summoned a dremora to help him out.

After an eternity of arduous marching, the ruin finally came into sight. 

"There. We've nearly made it," wheezed Savos. "Just a little more."

The structure was round, half-buried in snow and held no life within. No adventurer, no food and sadly, no burning campfire. Only a pile of firewood had been left for whichever poor soul had to spend the night out here.

Savos let Rashkan slump against the stone, thanked his dremora for his efforts, and unsummoned it. Rashkan mumbled his thanks as well, unsure whether the archmage had heard him. Savos responded with a weak smile. "There should be a cup in there," he pointed at the backpack. "And some food. If we have to spend the night we might as well get comfortable." With that, went outside, leaving Rashkan to himself. He fished for the items Savos had asked for and, among other things, found a small kettle, a cup, some slightly stony bread, dried sausages and a satchel filled with what Rashkan assumed to be tea leaves.

_Seriously?_

Rashkan shook his head. He loosened the straps keeping their two bedrolls tied to the backpack and spread them out as best as he could. The pain in his leg was taunting him, begging for attention. Rashkan bit his lip.

_No, not now._

He leaned back against the wall. Uncomfortable as it was, it was still a relief; his back hurt and his eyes were burning from staring at the bright snow all day. In an act of mercy, he let them fall shut and dozed off.

It was a dreamless, uneasy sleep, always on the brink of awakening and always accompanied by the steady throbbing in his thigh and a constant rumbling coming from his stomach.

When he eventually woke up, Savos had returned and was stacking some of the firewood into a neat pyre. 

"Slept well?"

Rashkan groaned and rubbed his eyes. "How long?" 

"Not for long. Still, any rest helps." Satisfied with his work, Savos lit up the pyre. The room became much warmer immediately.

"How is your arm?" Asked Rashkan. His gaze wandered to the injured limb hanging at the archmage's side.

"It could be worse; I could've been in your situation." He reached out to Rashkan. "The cup, please." 

It took a while for him to react, but eventually he handed the cup to Savos. The archmage pulled out a knife and held it dangerously close to his arm.

_He is not going to -_

Before Rashkan could finish the thought, Savos slid the knife across his wrist. Blood began dripping into the cup through the precise incision to his artery. "Your supper," he said with a grin. 

_Yes. Supper. What a wonderful idea._

Rashkan swallowed. He had tried to subdue Hunger, but now it returned in full force, beckoning him to rip the cup out of the archmage’s hands and maybe sink his fangs into those as well. He averted his eyes and squeezed his nose shut with his fingertips. Even so, the roaring pit in his stomach became harder and harder to ignore, until it even drowned out the pain in his thigh.

 _Focus, Rashkan, focus_ , he preached to himself.

A tug on his sleeve brought him back to reality; Savos was holding the half-full cup in his face.

"Drink. It might help you regenerate."

Rashkan did not hesitate. With little regard to manners or tidiness, he downed the blood in one go. The warm liquid put Hunger back to sleep, even if it was only for a little while. Savos was occupying himself with hunger as well and took some hearty bites off one of the sausages before nibbling on the crust of the bread.

Outside, the sun began to fade. 

"I'm sorry," Savos said solemnly and brushed some breadcrumbs out of his beard. 

"I was a stubborn ass. If I had only listened to you this never would have happened. Can you forgive my idiocy?"

Rashkan sighed. "You were a stubborn ass indeed," he agreed. "And you will make it up to me; I still need someone to look over my newest set of poems."

Savos seemed displeased, but if he truly was, he kept it to himself.

"In the meantime, let us focus on the problem at hand," all bitterness had vanished from the vampire's voice. He watched the archmage. The shadows cast by the warm light of the fire accentuated every crease and wrinkle, making him look ancient. Savos, who had noticed Rashkan watching, turned to him, his sad, crimson eyes fixed on his broken thigh. 

"I wish I knew a spell to ease the pain," his voice was soft and quiet.

Rashkan reached out and gently placed his hand on Savos' shoulder.

"It is all right," his voice was hoarse; he hoped he still managed to sound earnest. He stroked his thumb over Savos' shoulder before moving his hand to the archmage's chin and directing his gaze up towards his own. 

"How long will our supplies last?" 

Savos furrowed his brows. He stared down at the ground, then back at Rashkan, insecurity written in his features.

"I planned for no more than one and a half days -maybe-, just a precaution in case the weather forced us to camp. Although, if I hold back, we might have enough for two."

Rashkan frowned and mustered his injured leg. They were in trouble, and Rashkan could not think of any way out.

"If I am not better by then, please, leave me behind and return to the college."

Savos' eyes grew wide. 

"Did the wraith damage your head as well?" He shrieked, his face drained of all colour. "I won't leave you, Rashkan. Do you hear me? I won't leave you." He gripped his friend by the shoulders, his fingernails digging deep into the velvet fabric of his robe. "This mess is my fault and I won't let you suffer the consequences."

Rashkan looked deep into those scared eyes. Never before had he seen the archmage so afraid.

"Don't ever ask for that again," he pleaded, still not letting go of Rashkan's shoulders. 

Rashkan tilted his head to the side and studied the archmage. Something about his reaction was off, but the pain and his tiredness made it hard to concentrate. Every time he came close to a reasonable explanation, it escaped him, vanishing like the ice wraiths hit by Savos' fire. Eventually he abandoned his train of thought and just nodded, hoping the archmage would accept his answer. 

"Good." Savos let go of his shoulders and turned his head to the ruin's entrance. "I placed some runes in and around our camp. If anyone -or anything- tries to get inside, we'll know."

The archmage's words were but a slurry of incoherent sounds. Rashkan just gave a nod and searched for his bedroll. Once he found it he promptly pulled it closer and let himself sink in between the warm furs, his head resting on the ground. 

"Oh my," Savos chuckled. "Remind me to commission a bedroll fit for someone your height." 

He inched closer and carefully lifted the sleepy mer's head onto his lap, adding the fur cloak for extra padding.

"Better than the floor, right?"

"Mhm," was all Rashkan could answer as his mind drifted away. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Rashkan felt as though he had not slept at all. His eyes were glued shut by a layer of grime and prying them open took all the willpower he could muster; his neck felt so stiff he thought it might snap should he move even a little and his mouth was so dry he might have swallowed a handful of ash.

He could not tell how long he had slept; barely any natural light illuminated the ruin and what little managed to find its way inside was as dull and bleak as it had been the day before, giving him no chance to guess whether it was morning, noon, or time for dinner. The burned down carcass of the pyre gleamed in the middle of the room; the stash of firewood had shrunken accordingly. Next to it sat the open backpack.

Slowly and carefully, Rashkan turned his head ever so slightly in search of the dunmer on whose leg he was still resting.

...Or thought he was. 

What he had assumed to be his friend's leg turned out to be nothing more than said friend's rolled up bedroll.

Puzzled, Rashkan looked around. Bedroll. Backpack. Firewood. Fire.

No Savos.

Fire. Firewood. Backpack. Bedroll.

No Savos.

"Savos?" Rashkan called hoarsely and peeled himself out of the warm furs. His leg still hurt the worst, but his arms and back were starting to rival it and when he was done after much struggling, he already felt like taking a short nap.

"Savos?" He called again, louder this time.

No answer but the distant roaring of the Sea of Ghosts.

_So he did leave after all…_

It stung more than Rashkan had anticipated. True, he had asked the older mer to return to Winterhold, but sitting there, all alone in that desolate ruin, still made him feel lonely.

He leaned back against the cold stone wall. As much as he tried to fight it, he was starting to feel a little peckish and without his companion, Hunger might soon become a bigger problem than his broken leg. For a long time, he sat there, pondering how to get out of this mess.

_Even if I manage to regenerate soon, I will not be able to fend off Hunger, not without Savos or another willing subject. Then, it will only be a matter of time before some unlucky adventurer or Stormcloak patrol falls victim to my...urges._

Unknowingly, Rashkan licked his lips - and shuddered when he noticed what he was doing. With every passing moment, his worries grew more intense.

 _Maybe I could…?_ He shook his head. _No, that will not work._

No matter how hard he tried, all scenarios he came up with led to him sooner or later giving in to starvation.

The very notion sent a shiver up his spine.

He had to get back to the college or at least somewhere he could find bandits or other lowlifes to nobody would miss.

Slowly, with as much care as his condition allowed, he knelt onto his good leg and grasped at the wall behind him.

_I have to try before it is too late._

Pulling himself up, Rashkan put an ounce of pressure on his injured leg and was promptly rewarded with a sharp jolt of pain.

He hissed but continued nevertheless. With a quick strike, he jammed his fingers in between the stones further up the wall. His good leg was shaking under his weight and threatened to give out. As a last resort, he put more weight on his other leg. A wave of pain, so potent he let out a gargled cry, hit him, made him lose the ground under his feet until all that kept him from falling were his hands clawing at the wall. One of his fingernails broke off, tearing away flesh and skin with it. Smashing his teeth together, Rashkan tried to regain his foothold. 

_Just a little bit more, dammit!_

He was so lost to his effort he did not notice the footsteps coming from the entrance.

"Good morning."

Rashkan flinched, lost his grip and fell, barely catching himself with his elbows.

"Oww…," he winced and scrambled back against the wall.

The origin of the footsteps stood in the entrance carrying a stack of driftwood. A snow-filled kettle was dangling from his arm.

"Look who came back," Rashkan spat, rubbing his elbow.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you behind, didn't I?" A hint of bitterness was audible in the archmage's voice. "How are you feeling today?" He asked and dropped the damp wood next to the extinguished fire before picking up a new batch of dry wood and reigniting it.

"Being undead, I thought I would be free of something as minuscule as muscle pains, and yet, I have them in places I did not know existed, that, along with my leg makes me want to lie down and not move at all."

Savos looked him over.

"The way I see it you won't have anything else to do anyway."

Savos spread the driftwood out to dry. When he noticed Rashkan's confused look, he spoke:

"I needed more wood for the night than I expected, so I went and got some more. Since you were sleeping like a log, I did so without telling you." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting slightly. "We can have breakfast when I'm done."

"I suppose," Rashkan agreed, glaring at the archmage. "I was worried," he admitted, softer than he would have liked. "There is no denying that, without a source of blood, I am in peril." At the mention, Rashkan's stomach grumbled. He shot a glance down at himself and back at the archmage, hoping Savos had not noticed. 

Savos took one last, satisfied look at his collection of sticks before turning to Rashkan. 

"The knife and the cup, please."

"Savos, you need not-" 

"The knife and the cup, please," he demanded stressing the 'please' in such a way Rashkan knew resistance was futile.

 _Stubborn ass_ , he thought and fished for the cup and the knife and handed them to the archmage, who immediately went on to fix Rashkan's breakfast.

The coppery smell of freshly spilt blood filled the air. Rashkan leaned back and swallowed hard, tried to, at least. He was too parched, so instead he squeezed his eyes shut, grit his teeth and sat down on his hands to prevent himself from grabbing Savos by the wrist and draining him dry. Mephala knew how much he wanted to.

As soon as Savos moved the cup in his direction Rashkan ripped it out of his hand and chugged as if it were the sweetest wine.

It was not enough blood to keep him sated in the long run, and Savos seemed to be keenly aware of that. Still, filling his stomach was a welcome distraction from his painful reality and his growing fears.

_The risk is too high._

He watched as Savos prepared the kettle, the snow inside which had melted, filling it with tea leaves and a bit of honey.

_I will have to send him away if I continue to be unable to walk. Freezing, Starvation...myself, I cannot condemn him to any of it just because he feels responsible._

"...-shed?"

Rashkan blinked and turned to Savos.

"Excuse me, did you say something?" 

"I asked if you're finished with your breakfast." Savos regarded him with growing concern. "Are you alright? You don't look so good."

"Do not worry about me. I am fine, merely tired."

Savos squinted but said nothing. 

Rashkan sat the cup down. For what seemed like an eternity, he did not move. Leaned against the wall, he eyed his leg. Through the robe the wound did not look so bad; just a circle of torn fabric under which tar-coloured stains shimmered through the frayed borders.

"I did not expect us to fare this badly against two simple ice wraiths," he stated without moving his eyes from his leg.

"Neither did I. Then again, I had not expected to encounter them so far north; they have their lair further south where the terrain becomes flatter."

"You have done this a lot, have you not? Fetching teeth."

"Suppliers don't reach Winterhold the way they used to," he lamented. "So I have to take care of that myself. Better me than some eager apprentice," he added under his breath and took a sip of tea.

"Tell me something, Rashkan. Why did you join the college? Research, sure, but given your…," he struggled to find the right words, "Area of expertise, the college does not strike me as the first address."

Rashkan frowned. For a moment he remained silent, eyes still glued to his leg.

"I joined because I could not see myself anywhere else. My fellow coven members were tearing each other apart and going back to Solstheim was not an option, so where else should I have gone? I never learned a trade and I have no connections to speak of; magic is all I know, all I have devoted my life to ever since I left my family so many years ago. It was either the college or yet another group of hedge-mages preying on the living, so I made a choice. Would you have preferred otherwise?"

"No, I suppose not." Savos shook his head. "You know, I also couldn't see myself as anything other than a mage. I grew up in Winterhold, wanted to join the college ever since I was a child, to be one of those wonderous wizards in their fine robes that sometimes visited our shop." At the memory, a gentle, melancholic smile graced his lips. "When I was old enough I became one of them and never looked back once."

He walked over to Rashkan, sat down next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Magic is a calling, Rashkan, a path leading to greater truths about this world and so many others." His voice was brimming with excitement, his eyes twinkling with child-like wonder. "I hope the college can remain a haven for all who have answered that calling, for all truth-seekers and hoarders of knowledge."

Rashkan wanted to remind that he was turned away when he first applied but stopped to reconsider. He had not had the aptitude back then. After all, what would they have wanted with a quasi illiterate dunmer who did not know a single spell?

"Right now things aren't looking so bright." The twinkle had vanished from Savos' eyes, replaced by gloom.

"The civil war, I take it?"

Savos' face distorted as if he had tasted something sour. He nodded.

"Don't get me started. Every day I wake up to a stack of letters from all sides of this damnable conflict asking me to end our neutral stance. Some even threaten economic repercussions should we continue to ignore them." He let out a defeated sigh.

"You are not happy about that I wager," Rashakn said and leaned back against the wall, stretching his hurting limbs. "Please, tell me if there is anything I can do to help."

"What brilliant observational skills you possess," Savos sneered.

"The only thing you can do right now is getting back on your feet," he chuckled and emptied his tea.

Rashkan smiled and groaned: "You think yourself so clever for that pun, do you not?"

"Downright genius," Savos grinned, gently patted Rashkan on the back, and got up. "Since we're out here anyway I'll use the opportunity to gather some more ingredients. All this trouble for just the teeth seems a bit disproportionate. You should get some more rest in the meantime; you look quite groggy."

Rashkan nodded and crawled back into his bedroll. Savos was right; he could use a nap. He closed his eyes and, after a short while, sank into a restless sleep. 

_He found himself standing in the centre of the ruin. A chilly breeze had swept away the warmth of the fire. No light penetrated the darkness that had fallen over the ruin. A trace of copper filled his nostrils. Rashkan swallowed and took a look around. The backpack was leaned against the wall not far from him. Next to it lay Savos, curled into his cloak, fast asleep._

_"Savos?" Rashkan called, voice quivering._

_When the old mer did not move, Rashkan walked over to him. Slowly, every step feeling heavier and heavier as if weights had been strapped to his legs. The closer he got, the stronger the coppery smell became. A sense of dread overcame him. At last, he reached his sleeping friend and fell to his knees. With trembling hands, he lifted the cloak. Dull crimson eyes, opened so wide they seemed to burst from his skull, stared up at him. Rashkan reeled back and fell on his behind._

_The archmage's neck was torn to shreds._

_His chest tightened as if Fear itself wanted to crush him. Shaking terribly, he looked down at himself and found his robe and hands stained red._

Rashkan shot up from his bedroll and was promptly hit by the familiar pain of reality.

"Rashkan? Are you alright?" Savos was warming his hands by the fire. Head tilted to the side, he eyed his companion with furrowed brows.

"You have to go back!" Rashkan blurted out.

Savos raised an eyebrow.

"We've talked about that, haven't we? Didn't I ask you to let it go?" 

_Do not be a stubborn ass now_ , he thought, desperation taking hold of him.

"You did. But I have changed my mind; I cannot allow you to stay any longer. Please, just see reason!" He pleaded.

The archmage's expression became more confused.

"Rashkan, what are you blabbering on about?"

"I- Savos you are no longer safe. Leave, please!" He urged, the nightmarish images still fresh in his mind.

The archmage's gaze hardened.

"You seriously think you're in a position to harm me? Must I remind you that last time you lost control you ended up hiding under a table? Must I also remind you of your leg? You can hardly move! What threat, then, could you pose?"

Savos walked over to Rashkan and sat down next to him. The vampire tried to shift away, but the archmage would not allow it.

"Listen," he commanded.

Rashkan turned his head to the side, fearing to face those crimson eyes.

"Listen well." Savos reached out and gently turned Rashkan's head towards his own.

"You are not in a position to hurt me. You have never been in a position to hurt me. What makes you think that'll change now? If you decide to attack me -which I doubt you will-, I'll have the means to make you stop." His gaze softened, a tired smile graced his lips. "You'll make it through this." 

He wanted to speak up, to protest, to push his friend away and tell him how much of a fool he was, but no matter how much he wanted, he could not bring himself to say the words.

"I will," Rashkan promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took much longer than I had planned and took a different turn too. Still, I hope you enjoyed reading the second chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	3. Chapter 3

_ 756, 757, 758, 760, 761. Wait, I skipped a few ... damn! _

Rashkan lay in his bedroll counting the bricks making up the ceiling. Sleeping through the last few days had left him rather restless. He turned to the side. The campfire was sizzling away slowly, filling the room with warmth. Too much warmth as far as Rashkan was concerned. He glanced over at Savos, wondering how the old mer had not yet melted in his cocoon of cloak and bedroll. If he squinted, he could make out the archmage's ashen nose tip peeking out into the twilight of the chamber.

Rashkan smiled at the sight. 

_ At least one of us gets to sleep... _

Not wanting to wake his companion, he continued watching the fire eagerly gnawing and nibbling on the smouldering planks whilst burping out sparks with every crack. Although he could not estimate how much time had passed exactly, it had been at least five counts since supper. Yet there he was, stomach growling like a sabre cat.

Near the fire lay the backpack, toppled over. Out of it hung a slightly torn white cotton towel. Rashkan recognized it immediately: It was the towel in which the rest of the bread had been wrapped.

Savos' words reverberated in his mind: " _ Two days if I hold back a bit. _ " 

Rashkan frowned and inspected the towel as best as he could without having to crawl any closer; it was crumpled and hastily stuffed halfway back into the backpack, leaving no room for even the smallest of crumbs. 

_ When did he…? Nevermind, looks like we are down to half a day now… _

_ Half a day... _

Rashkan's chest tightened. Reluctantly his gaze wandered to his leg lying limply on the bedroll, a painful reminder of the fight against the ice wraiths. Slowly, he sat up and pulled back his robe, revealing the wound. Most of the black had withdrawn, deep dents hinted at the holes the wraith had left in his thigh. For the first time since their arrival at the ruin, a glimmer of hope ignited in Rashkan's heart.

_ Maybe tomorrow _ , he thought, smiled, and returned to counting the bricks. There were 2734 bricks in total, some cracked, some about to fall out, some were light grey, others blackened by sud. Rashkan counted and counted and while it was a welcome distraction, it would not grant him sleep. 

_ 541, 542, 54- what was that? _

It may have been quiet, but Rashkan was sure: he had heard something. He dared not move as he listened, eyes glued to the doorway. Had Savos put up the runes? 

A howl -no, a wheeze- wafted through the chamber.

_ A wolf perhaps?, pondered Rashkan. _

The sound was gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind only the crackling of the fire and the roaring Sea of Ghosts in the distance.

_ If it was a wolf, it must have gone away _ , he concluded, leaned back and resumed counting. 

_ 544, 545, 546, 547… Useless!  _ Rashkan wrapped his arms around himself. All that counting was more frustrating than it was worth. He groaned and fiddled with his bedroll in a fruitless attempt to make himself comfortable.

_ Did he put up the runes or not? _

A loud crack caused him to flinch. His gaze raced towards the doorway but ended up stumbling over the campfire. The pyre had collapsed into a broken pile of charred remains slowly being digested by dying embers. 

Rashkan closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. He was just about to turn around when the noise reappeared. A strangled whimper, like the death rattle of some injured beast. It was quieter this time, so quiet that, for a moment, Rashkan thought he had misheard. But what else could it have been? The ruin had been cloaked in perpetual silence ever since supper.

Quickly, he shot a glance at Savos, drew his Magicka to the palm of his hand and concentrated on his bloodthirst until, at last, a sanguine aura coated his hands. Tense, he stared at the doorway, teeth grit, fangs bared ever so slightly.

If the origin of the strange sound wanted to harm him and Savos, it would have to face him first. 

For an agonizing eternity, he waited, spell ready to fire at any and every horror roaming the night. He waited, listened and yet, the noise had disappeared again. Rashkan grumbled and, after some hesitation, sheathed his spell but stayed vigilant nevertheless. Surely the beast was still somewhere outside. Silent - for now.

The thought of something lurking in the dark made his skin crawl. After all, he knew all too well what creatures roamed the night. Worse things than wolves or bandits.

"Things like me," thought Rashkan as his stomach let out a desperate cry for blood. 

_ Can I hold out until next morning... _

He was ripped out of his thoughts when the noise returned in full force, and worse: It was coming from inside. An icy shiver trickled down his spine.

His head spun towards the archmage, buried under his cloak, shifting erratically.

"Savos?" called Rashkan and, when he got no answer, began crawling towards his friend, careful not to move his leg and grunting every time he could not avoid it. Frantically, his gaze switched between the doorway and the archmage. Back and forth. Back and forth. Always vigilant.

"Savos!" Rashkan called louder this time and was answered by a stuttering snore.

_ He is either having a nightmare or a seizure… _

As soon as he got close enough, he reached out, grabbed the cloak, and froze.

A lump of fear formed in his throat as his mouth was running dry; images of death and dull crimson eyes flashed before his mind. In a fit of paranoia, he looked at his hands. Dark grey, like granite, without even a single speck of red.

Rashkan relaxed and gently lifted the thick layer of fur.

The archmage was fast asleep, slim strands of greyish brown hair were glued to his sweat-covered frown; his eyes and mouth were twitching wildly and every once in a while, he let out the very same sound that had Rashkan fear for their safety.

If his friend were not suffering, he could have laughed at the situation.

"Savos," he said sternly.

No reaction.

The prince of nightmares had fully taken hold of the poor archmage.

Gently, Rashkan brushed away a few streaks of greyish brown hair, but it did nothing to wake the older mer. 

_Should I pinch him perhaps?,_ He thought.

A devious, much better idea crossed his mind. So, he drew upon some Magicka. Not enough to cast a full spell, but enough for his plan to work. A blue mist began forming around his fingertips, chilling the air around them. Lower and lower the temperature dropped until Rashkan was sure it rivalled the snow outside.

_ You have one more chance to wake up on your own before I free you from your nightmare. _

"Savos!" Called Rashkan, loud enough for his voice to echo off the walls. 

Minimally, the archmage shifted. For a moment, Rashkan got his hopes up - only to watch them crash to the ground as Savos continued snoring, still tossing and turning.

_ Fine then _ , he thought to himself and placed the hand with the half-finished frost spell in the archmage's neck.

That did the trick: Savos shot up with a gasp. Like a deer that had spotted the hunter, he stared at Rashkan.

And Rashkan stared back into those wide crimson eyes. Paralyzed, he waited for a reaction -blinking, a cough, movement- anything to make sure Savos was well and truly awake.

"Have you gone mad?!?" He shrieked and looked around as if to figure out where he was. At that moment, Rashkan became fully aware of just how pale and dishevelled his friend looked. Whatever he had dreamt up, it had to have been something horrible beyond imagining.

"You were," Rashkan fidgeted with the thick fur of the cloak. "Making noises in your sleep." He hoped that did not sound too awkward.

"Was I now? So, therefore, you decided to give me a heart attack?" Savos scoffed and wiped the troubles from his eyes. "Those  _ noises _ did not wake you, I hope?"

"I wish; I have not been able to sleep at all," Rashkan complained. "I must admit though you had me frightened."

"You were frightened? Because of me?" Savos raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I assumed a wild animal to be the source of the noises, but even when it turned out to be you, my worries did not diminish. You were having a nightmare, were you not?"

Savos remained silent, got up, fed the fire and sat down next to it. 

Rashkan watched the embers dance in the old mer's tired eyes and licked his lips. 

_ Maybe I could ask for- _

"You should go back to sleep, Rashkan. You'll need your strength."

"As will you. You have not slept much since our arrival."

Savos sighed and shot Rashkan a melancholy smile. "Don't worry about me; I'm used to that."

It was not an answer Rashkan wanted to hear. If what he had witnessed tonight was indeed a regular occurrence, he pitied his friend. Still, there was nothing he could say to comfort him without prying or dragging up the images Savos was trying to shake off.

For a while, the two sat in silence and watched the re-emerging flames gobbling up the new wooden treats.

"I have found the wrapping of the bread," Rashkan began and let his head rest on his arm, "Were you that hungry?"

The archmage's eyes followed the sparks soaring towards the ceiling. 

"I tried," he blurted out. "I tried but in the end, just tea wasn't enough. I'm sorry, Rashkan, so sorry."

"You do not have to be ashamed, Savos. I fully understand how all-consuming hunger can be, how much it hurts to starve." 

_ I understand it more than I would like, _ Rashkan wanted to add but swallowed the words just in time. 

"However, having fewer rations complicates our situation."

"That's a nice way of putting it," He sneered. Frowning, he continued watching the flames. "If only I had planned better, if only I knew how to fish or to scavenge, then I could-"

"If only, if only…," Rashkan scoffed, "All this  _ if only _ does not do anything but make you lose yourself to your self-pity. We still have rations for tomorrow morning. Maybe -if we are lucky- I will be able to walk by then."

Savos opened his mouth as if to say something.  _ But, What if _ something to undermine his attempt at reassurance, that much was certain and Rashkan was not having any of it. Before the first sound could leave the archmage's mouth, he continued speaking:

"Should that be the case, you will need all your strength for the walk back to Winterhold, so get in your bedroll and try to sleep! I cannot promise there will be no more nightmares, but you need to rest."

Savos regarded him with bold defiance until he eventually got up, picked up Rashkan's bedroll before handing it to him and getting his own, placing it next to Rashkan's and closer to the fire. Quickly, he crawled into it and curled into a ball. Rashkan did the same, albeit much slower and with more pain-filled grunting. He had most certainly earned his rest now - if he could blank out the pit in his stomach long enough to fall asleep.

"You're starting to sound like Mirabelle," the archmage muttered under his breath, his tone betraying a hint of irritation. "But you're right, not only have I been a stubborn ass, but I've also been an underprepared fool. I shouldn't annoy you with my all my worrying and my abysmal sleep schedule."

"Savos that is not-," Rashkan whispered but the archmage shut him up with a wave of his hand.

"Bedtime," he announced.

Rashkan groaned and tried to make himself comfortable. He had just closed his eyes when his face got buried under thick, warm fur.

"For your head," came Savos' muffled voice from within his cloak. 

Rashkan gladly accepted the offer and nuzzled himself into the fluffy softness next to Savos. 

Just as he had finally found a decent sleeping position, he felt a hand trailing up his bedroll as if it were searching for something.

"Hm?" Rashkan turned to his companion. 

"Umm... Could you perhaps...hold my hand? So I know you're there - against the nightmares, you know. Only if you want, of course." The question was quiet, muffled by cloak and bedroll and the archmage's nervousness.

For a moment, Rashkan wanted to be a sorehead, to say  _ No _ , but something made him reconsider, a barely audible tremor in the archmage's voice - the lasting shadow of his nightly torment. He sighed, freed his arm from the cosy bedding and cupped Savos' soft, warm hand with his own.

"I am here you grouchy old fool," he mumbled and gave Savos' hand a reassuring squeeze. Maybe he had imagined it but for a short while, the ghost of a "thank you" lingered in the small room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out a bit purple in places, but I still hope you enjoyed it. Being stuck in some desolate ruin with nothing to do must be very boring and I at least wanted to show a bit of that - I hope it didn't rub off on the audience. ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

Rashkan awoke, shivering.

The fire was extinguished and allowed the bitter, biting, Winterhold cold to creep into the chamber. To escape it, Savos had cuddled up to him, his hand still loosely touching Rashkan's. Warmth was coming off the archmage's body, his heartbeat pounding underneath the covers and if Rashkan leaned in a little, the last remnants of lavender mixed with the struggles of the past days filled his nostrils. There was something else, too: A hint of copper hidden among the other scents. Under different circumstances, he would have been glad to see his friend resting so peacefully -especially after the events of the night-, but like this? 

Rashkan grit his teeth as every vessel in his body came alive with hunger.

His gaze wandered further down. Between the tight wrappings of cloak and bedroll, greyish brown hair revealed a patch of ashen skin.

 _His neck_ , Rashkan noticed and swallowed hard once he spotted the outline of the archmage's carotid artery. The cold was sinking its teeth into his back, but it mattered little; at that moment, Rashkan was set aflame with need. He attempted to avert his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried, they always found their way back to that sweet, sweet current.

Trembling with anticipation, he leaned in even further.

 _How bad could it be? It is just a small nick,_ whispered a treacherous voice in depths of his mind.

The closer he got, the louder the archmage's heartbeat thundered in his ears, the more intense the sweet smell of his blood became.

Inch by torturous inch, his inhibitions were tossed somewhere beyond his care, into the meaningless rest of the world.

The archmage's blood was pumping and pulsing through his veins, charming Rashkan, mere inches away, begging him to take a sip. He lowered his head, closer and closer to that sweet temptation.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and plunge his fangs deep into the soft, waiting skin, Savos stirred and tightly squeezed Rashkan's hand.

The vampire retreated, suddenly all too aware of the situation.

 _What am I doing?_ he wondered, nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

He slammed his teeth together and pressed his head deeply into the thick fur cloak.

"How low have I sunken?" He whispered into the fluff. Inside, he was screaming. _Just how could I allow Hunger to take over like that? I assured Savos I would get through this! I made a promise, dammit!_

He buried his hands in his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp.

 _What now?_ The question was gnawing at his conscience. _Can I make sure this does not happen again? Can I still trust myself?_

The archmage stretched his limbs and let out a drawn-out yawn.

"Rashkan?" 

The tall vampire did not move, did not even make a sound.

"Rashkan, are you alright?" 

Rashkan released his stranglehold on his hair. Slowly, as if fearing to look upon him, he shot a glance at Savos before quickly returning to his hideaway in the thick warm cloak.

"You should reignite the fire," he mumbled into the fur. "It is cold in here." A lie, for his body was still ablaze with an unnatural fever, an all-consuming hunger.

The archmage did not respond, but the shuffling of fur and the sound of his footsteps made it clear he agreed.

Rashkan let out a sigh of relief. With the old mer at a distance, the temptation was a lot less severe. 

_I made a promise_ , he reminded himself again and again.

A rush of warmth filled the room. Turning to the side, he spotted a newly ignited pyre, the last sparks of flame dancing around the archmage's fingertips until they faded at last.

"How are you feeling today?" Savos asked.

"Hu-," Rashkan bit his tongue. _Hungry, starved, famished_ \- all words that adequately described his current state, but he did not want to burden his friend. Surely, Hunger had tightened its grip on him as well.

"Not much different from the day before." He shrugged. At this point, the dull throbbing in his thigh and the nagging hunger pangs had become his constant companions, though the latter were becoming dangerous.

The archmage frowned and watched the greedy flame tendrils emerge from between the wood.

"I'll quickly head outside to check the weather. After that, well…" Savos hesitated, fidgeting with the fur lining of his robe. "We'll see what we've got left for breakfast."

With that, he got up and left Rashkan at the mercy of his fears.

Breakfast. It sounded too good to be true. 

A desperate wail escaped the bottomless pit that was his stomach. Rashkan shuddered.

And in all likelihood, it was.

His gaze wandered to the entrance as a deep frown spread over his forehead.

_No doubt Savos will offer me his blood again. Tempting, but can I...?_

If he were not undead already, his blood would have run cold. To distract himself, Rashkan carefully began crawling out of his bedroll. He was about halfway done when Savos stumbled into the room, blinking rapidly.

"Ugh, entering this gloom after the brightness outside will leave you blinded," he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"So the sun is shining today?" Rashkan looked around. The few stray rays of light falling into the chamber were brighter than usual, but he would never have expected a full-on sunny day up here in this frozen wasteland. "I thought the sun was a myth in Winterhold." 

Savos laughed.

"Yes, here it's sometimes easy to forget that the sky has a colour other than grey. But today is a reminder; it's one of those rare days where bright blue skies meet glaciers so bright they burn your eyes," Savos chuckled and grabbed the backpack. "If we were at the college I'd go for a walk today."

Attentively, Rashkan's eyes followed Savos' hands as they vanished inside the backpack, taking out the empty towel and the last bits of dried sausage until they finally found the cup and the knife. 

Rashkan licked his lips at the prospect of fresh, delicious blood to assuage Hunger. Oh, he could hardly wait.

To chastise himself, he bit his tongue and wrapped his arms around himself. He was trembling.

"Rashkan? Are you alright?"

The vampire's head shot up.

"Y- yes," he stammered. "I am perfectly fine; just the stupid leg," he lied. "Nothing you need to worry about."

Savos narrowed his eyes and mustered Rashkan with a grim expression.

"Are you sure? Maybe the bone is growing back incorrectly? In that case, Colette will have to break it again."

"I am not going to let that wicked witch touch me!" shrieked Rashkan.

Savos burst into laughter. "Relax, it's not set in stone yet. Good to see you haven't lost your fighting spirit though."

Rashkan answered with a nod and a nervous smile.

Meanwhile, Savos was preparing Rashkan's breakfast. 

Longing eyes followed the blade as it travelled across the archmage's wrist, leaving behind a widening trail of red. 

The vampire squeezed his eyes shut, but it did not help; he could not escape the overbearing smell of copper that flooded the room. 

_Keep it together_ , he reminded himself, _keep it together_. He tried to think of something - anything - to distract himself: His departure from Solstheim; his arrival in Winterhold, where he was declined by the college; his subsequent joining of a necromancer coven; the moment he was turned into a vampire and his first taste of- 

Rashkan's eyes burst open. His entire body turned to stone.

"Here you are." Savos was standing in front of him, holding the cup in his face. 

Rashkan pressed his lips together in something vaguely resembling a smile.

"Thank you," he said, his voice dry and strained.

Inside the cup, tiny, leftover beads were running down its walls until they eventually became one with the pool of red at its bottom. For a moment, all that existed were Rashkan and the blood-filled cup.

Shivering violently, he breathed in the strong scent that sent him over the edge.

Blood splattering on the ground, he snatched the cup out of Savos' hand. Each sip filled him with ecstasy. For a brief moment, he was alive again. Holding the cup a little higher, he tried to force it to surrender even the smallest drops clinging to its walls.

When the flow stopped, at last, his frustration grew. Hunger was wreaking havoc on his body; Rashkan could not think straight. 

He needed... 

**_Needed_ **...

As fast as lightning, he dropped the empty cup, grabbed Savos by the arm, and pulled him closer with inhuman force.

"Rash-?"

The archmage stood stock-still, frozen by what was unfolding. 

_Did Savos say something?_ Rashkan could have sworn he heard his voice, but the deafening pulsing of Savos' blood drowned out the rest of the world. 

He opened his mouth, ready to sink his fangs deep into Savos' wrist.

"Rashkan, you promised," Savos shouted loud enough for his voice to echo off the walls.

It was as if someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over his head. Rashkan shuddered, suddenly all too aware of his surroundings, what he was about to do, whom he was about to harm. 

He glanced up at Savos and found the old mer staring back at him, wide-eyed, a mixture of shock and anger twisting his features.

Rashkan recoiled, pushed away Savos' arm and scurried back against the wall.

"Rashkan," Savos began, stepping closer.

"No, go away!" 

"Rashkan wait yo-"

"I said, go away!" He screamed.

"Your leg!" The archmage snapped.

For a moment, Rashkan did not know what he meant. 

_What about my- oh._ Rashkan looked down at his injured leg, dumbfounded.

He had just used it to crawl back towards the wall, had he not?

Savos approached him, one hand outstretched, flickers of golden magic springing forth from the other.

"Can you try standing up?"

Rashkan frowned, not fully processing the words. He had almost attacked Savos! 

"Rashkan?" Savos crouched down before him and reluctantly put his hand on the vampire's shoulder. As soon as Savos' fingers touched him, Rashkan lowered his head, his gaze fixating on the floor. Oh, if only it were to open up. 

"I did not mean for this to happen," he whispered. "I thought I had everything under control but when you gave me the blood I… I just-"

"It's alright."

"But I almost bit you!" The second time no less.

"And in the end, you didn't," Savos shrugged and took Rashkan by the hand. "Come, it's no use thinking about what could have been; it's so easy to lose oneself to regret," he smiled sympathetically. "Shall we try?" 

Rashkan needed a moment to consider. Trying to stand up meant being supported by Savos, and being close to him…

"You'll be able to hold out until we reach the college, won't you?" Savos looked him directly in the eyes. It was not a question.

Rashkan balled his fists.

_I have managed to resist two times already. I can do it again._

"And if I have to bite off my own tongue, I will!"

A wide smile lit up Savos' face. 

"Wonderful," he rejoiced, let go of Rashkan, stuffed the last bit of sausage into his mouth and quickly gathered their belongings. 

With a stifled grunt and newfound determination, Rashkan meanwhile shifted into position against the wall and slowly began pulling himself up by the bricks like he had the day before.

 _This is our chance_ , Rashkan reminded himself, _do not mess it up!_

Quickly, Savos slipped under Rashkan's shoulder to better support the much taller, heavier mer. 

Packed with their remaining luggage, they headed out into the snow.

Savos had been right: The sunlight was stabbing him, burning his eyes and leaving him nearly blind. Still, Rashkan trotted onwards. Savos knew the way. He would safely lead them back to Winterhold, step by step through the thick snow. 

"Does it hurt much?" panted Savos whilst trying his best to help Rashkan move forward.

It did hurt. Not as bad as it had two days ago, but it hurt nevertheless. Still, if they wanted to get back to the college without worse complications, they needed to move now. 

"I can take it," Rashkan assured and looked down at Savos. The archmage was trying his best, but the knee-deep snow was making it anything but easy.

 _This is going to be a long way home_ , thought Rashkan.

"You should summon your dremora again. You are struggling way too hard."

Savos shot him an indignant glare.

"I got us into this mess Rashkan; I will get us out of it."

"You could still use the help though."

"You can walk - unstably so, but you can walk - unlike last time. No need to bother any of my dremora."

"Savos do not be so-"

"Listen, if I summon a dremora now, that dremora won't let me hear the end of it."

Rashkan rolled his eyes. 

_And I will not let you hear the end of this, you stubborn ass._

So they continued on through the thick blankets of snow, along the shining shore of the sea of ghosts past steep cliffs and frigid glaciers.

For hours they walked, forward, homeward, through the endless white waste, the silence only broken by the occasional rumbling of their stomachs.

With every step, Savos was struggling to support him but still would not admit defeat. One step. Then another. Onwards, ever onwards. Just as they passed by a large hillslope, Savos stopped dead in his tracks.

"Savos? What is the matter?" If they wanted to be home before sundown, they would have to hurry.

The archmage did not respond but instead continued gazing at the horizon.

"Savos?"

"Stay here for a moment," he commanded and set Rashkan down on the frozen ground.

 _What is he planning?_ Rashkan wondered, squinting his eyes to block out the blinding sun - unsuccessfully. Before he could ponder it further, the archmage dashed across the ice, wildly waving his arms, screaming and shouting.

Mouth agape, Rashkan sat in the snow and watched Savos' frame become smaller and smaller until it eventually vanished in the brightness.

_He has finally lost it, has he not?_

After what felt like an eternity, Savos returned at last. And not alone. A big burly Nord with way more hair on his chin than his head was trailing behind him, grumbling something about a schedule and extra payment while Savos was merely waving his hand, mumbling a "yes, yes" every few steps.

When they reached Rashkan, the Nord looked him over and raised his eyebrows. 

"Damn son, did they raise you on mammoth milk or was your ma a giant?"

Rashkan forced a polite smile but did not say anything. Typically, people freaked out when they saw his fangs.

"Huh, did the cold freeze your mouth shut, son?"

Rashkan twiddled with his thumbs, shooting Savos a quick, nervous glance. 

"My friend is generally quite shy and, at the moment, he's also exhausted. I'm sure he'll be more talkative when we're at the sledge," The archmage explained.

Sledge? 

Rashkan's heart made a leap of joy. That man had a sledge! A sledge! Had he been in a better state, Rashkan would have hugged them both.

"If you say so," the Nord grunted and took Savos' position stabilising Rashkan, while the old mer continued carrying the backpack. 

The uphill track to the sledge was exhausting; more than once Rashkan nearly stumbled, taking the burly Nord with him.

At last, they reached the cobbled path on which the cart stood filled with sacks of grain, vegetables and other supplies for the town of Winterhold. 

Rashkan rejoiced. No more painful walking. His eyes sought Savos and found the old mer grinning like a child during the New Life Festival.

No doubt he too was looking forward to home.

Together, Savos and the Nord heaved Rashkan onto the sledge where he made himself comfortable in between the supply sacks. Savos climbed in right after, finding a cosy spot on a box of beets.

"So," began Savos while watching their driver ready his mules. "That was quite an adventure, wasn't it?" 

Rashkan's stomach cried out in desperation. Heat rushing to his cheeks, he clasped his hands over it to shut it up.

"No touching the food!" snapped the Nord. "If even one beet is missing when we reach Winterhold, it'll cost you," he warned, climbed in the front and signalled his mules to run.

Savos and Rashkan rolled their eyes in unison - and burst into laughter once they realised what the other was doing.

"Adventure, you say? I wish I shared your optimism," Rashkan sighed, coming down from their little outburst. 

"I'm serious," he assured in a manner that made it absolutely clear he was not. "We got to enjoy the lovely Winterhold scenery, got to collect the ice wraith teeth I needed, spent a few days away from any stressful college activities, and now we're going on a sleigh ride. If that's not an adventure, what is?"

Rashkan threw him a doubtful look.

"At any rate, let's not do it again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I must admit I struggled with this one and while I'm still not completely happy with it, every change I'd make now would be "verschlimmbessern" (making something worse while trying to make it better), as we would say in German.
> 
> I will say though that, despite any gripes I might have, I still like the chapter overall and I am looking forward to writing the next part of the series (And finally continuing Magic and Mayhem).
> 
> Anyway, I'm rambling. Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, I never expected this thing to grow this long, especially since this is only the first chapter. The others are mostly finished but still need to undergo editing. Still, the largest part is done unless the other chapters grow just as much. We'll see, we'll see...


End file.
